


Nobody's Lonely Tonight

by Raine_Wynd



Category: Highlander (Movies), Highlander: The Series, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Explicit Sex, M/M, One Night Stands, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: One night between two men in New York.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Other(s), Connor MacLeod/Clint Barton, Connor MacLeod/Other(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Nobody's Lonely Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rhiannon Shaw for the plot bunny and to ride_forever for the final edit.

The Northern Indian-themed cocktail bar in New York’s West Village was unlike any place Clint had ever gone, but he was tired of his usual haunts and willing to check out a new-to-him bar if it meant he met someone willing to date an Avenger. However, after half an hour of nursing a cocktail, Clint knew he had been stood up. Resigned, he considered his options: buy himself another drink, order dinner (everything smelled delicious and authentic), or leave. He decided to order another drink and contemplate the menu.

The server had just delivered his second drink and walked away when an oddly accented voice asked, “May I join you?”

Clint looked up to see a man dressed in a hip-length leather jacket, a pinstriped dress shirt, jeans, and sneakers standing at his table. Years of target assessment had Clint judging the stranger to be a possible martial artist – something about the way he held himself made Clint think the other man had learned how to take his lean, tall build and use it as a weapon. He had short blondish-brown hair, an oval face with a square jaw, and five o’clock shadow. His eyes were a mutable hazel, and his face reflected both amusement and patience as he submitted to Clint’s survey. Lust sparked as Clint realized the other man was exactly the kind of man he preferred – not so muscular he was a gym rat, but confident, skilled, and just this side of dangerous. Clint wasn’t sure why he was certain the stranger was dangerous, only that his combat instincts were screaming not to assume this man was harmless.

Willing to entertain a stranger if only to find out what he wanted, Clint gestured to the other side of the two-seat table. “Have a seat. What can I do for you?”

“Connor MacLeod,” the stranger introduced himself, extending a hand for Clint to shake, which he did. “I own an antique store up the street, and I hate to eat alone.”

“Clint Barton,” Clint returned. “And do you make a habit of joining strangers for dinner?”

Connor looked amused. “Only the handsome, intelligent ones. You should try the samosas and the curry; they’re really good here. And I’ll cover the cost, since I invited myself.”

Intrigued, Clint leaned in. “What would you do if I’d said no?”

Connor smiled. “Tried someone else,” he replied easily, and gestured to the other lone diner at the other end of the small restaurant. “But you were my first choice, Hawkeye.”

“Is that so?” Clint asked, instinctively bracing for a blow. He studied his new dining companion. “And to what do I owe that honor?”

“Steve Rogers is an old friend,” Connor said. “He asked if I wouldn’t mind making sure you got what you needed tonight.”

Mentally, Clint groaned. Steve had mentioned an old friend named Connor, but Clint had assumed the man in question was someone over seventy years old, not worth getting to know. Connor looked as though he was in his twenties. “You’re not what I expected.”

That garnered him a short, staccato laugh. “Nor are you.”

Their server arrived. Wanting to get to know this man, Clint asked, “Want to get something and share?”

“Do you like it spicy?”

“Not if I want to be comfortable later,” Clint admitted ruefully. “But you go ahead.”

Connor ordered enough food for both of them and requested the spice level to be mild. He also ordered a classic whiskey cocktail. Once the server had taken the order, Connor turned his attention to Clint.

“What brings you to my neighborhood?”

“Steve didn’t tell you?”

Connor shook his head. “He mentioned you might be here, but not why.”

“Was supposed to be meeting someone I met on a dating app,” Clint explained.

Connor’s face reflected sympathy. “It’s difficult to meet people,” he agreed. “My friends think I shouldn’t be alone.”

“How come?”

Connor shrugged. “My wife, Brenda, died several years ago. I loved her very much, and my friends worry.”

Clint studied him, sensing a streak of mischief. “And you haven’t enlightened them you like people, not just women, because it amuses you to know something they don’t.”

“I’ve always preferred to be discreet in my affairs. Others can post their lives on social media, but I don’t.” He shrugged as their server returned with his drink and a platter of two samosas. “Who I love is my business.”

“What do you say to those who think that’s a form of being in the closet?” Clint asked as they each took a samosa and he cut one open to let out the steam.

“They’re not living my life. The people who would’ve disapproved of my choices are long dead. I have nothing to prove.” Connor blew on the filled, triangular-shaped pastry he had selected and took a bite before setting it down on his plate. “Besides, the standard-bearer has always been among the first to be shot.”

Clint’s eyes widened. “You sound like the voice of experience.”

“I was in the Army, and I’m a student of military history,” Connor told him. “Pass the mango chutney?”

“You don’t look old enough to have served,” Clint countered as he passed the jar.

Connor smiled. “Genetics are a funny thing,” he said mildly as he slathered chutney onto his samosa. “But yes, I’ve served. Now I’m an antiques dealer. You ever think about what you’ll do if you stopped fighting?”

Clint chuckled. “Seems like every time I’ve tried, the other Avengers have needed me. But I have a plan and a place to go if they ever stop needing my skills.”

“And if someone told you tomorrow, ‘no, we don’t need you,’ would you fight it?”

“Probably,” Clint replied honestly. “Because what’s out there is bigger than just our planet. We’ve opened doors to places and people we didn’t know existed. Alien armies? Space whales? Gods? If you’d asked me what we were dealing with ten years ago, I’d have said homegrown terrorists were our biggest threat.”

“You can’t unknow what you know,” Connor agreed, and finished his samosa. “I grew up in a village in the Highlands of Scotland. The first time I came to New York, I thought I was going to the edge of the world.”

Clint laughed. “I feel that way when I fly across an international date line and they tell me the local time.”

Connor grinned at him. “Definitely.”

The server took their appetizer plates and returned with lamb kabobs, monkfish curry, black bean lentils in a cream sauce, rice, and dinner plates.

“Hungry?” Clint asked, noting the spread.

“I skipped lunch,” Connor excused himself. “And I never can pick just one.”

Chuckling, Clint helped himself to a little bit of everything. “Me neither. What made you go into antiques and not, say, shoes?”

“Antiques have stories,” Connor told him as he waited for Clint to take his share, “and histories. The people who shop for antiques are looking for both and are willing to haggle over them. You’ll never haggle over shoes unless you’re in an open-air market.”

“True,” Clint agreed. He took his first bite of dinner and moaned in appreciation as the flavors exploded on his tongue. “This is delicious.”

Connor took his share and then a bite. He nodded in agreement. “Do you have a preference for cuisines in food?”

“Not really,” Clint admitted. “I grew up poor and willing to eat anything, especially when I was with the circus. As an adult, I’m a little pickier, but it’s more of a ‘feeling out of place in something too fancy’ kind of thing than the food itself. You?”

Connor finished eating the bite he had taken before answering. “My cousin and I are snobs about Japanese food, but we spent several years in Japan. Oh, and Scottish whiskey is the only whiskey worth drinking.”

Clint grinned. “I can see that, with a name like MacLeod. Where is your family from?”

“Glenfinnan, in the Highlands of Scotland. You?”

“Waverly, Iowa, also known as ‘the middle of nowhere.’ My brother and I ran away and joined the circus when I was eleven.”

Connor looked surprised. “That isn’t a made-up part of your biography?”

“No,” Clint replied. “Some of the circus-people came out of the woodwork after the Battle of Manhattan, tried to cash in on knowing me.” He grimaced at the memory. “It wasn’t pretty for me to watch.”

“I can imagine,” Connor told him. “Fame makes people do strange things.”

“Including wanting to have dinner with me?” Clint asked.

Connor’s smile only widened. “I might have mentioned to Steve I wanted to know who the mystery archer was. One of my friends is an archer as well, and he was the only one I knew who would still fight with a bow and arrow. Of course, it would be a stretch for Cory to be involved so publicly, but I still wondered.” Connor shrugged. “Steve just took a few years to respond to my request, but patience is one of the things I’ve learned is very rewarding.”

Clint’s eyes widened. Steve was usually prompt in responding to everything, which told him whoever Connor was, Steve had wanted to be absolutely certain of his intentions before arranging a meeting. It also told Clint that Steve knew Clint would have absolutely refused to meet Connor if he had known about it in advance. “What do you want from me?” Clint asked, setting down his fork.

“Dinner,” Connor replied, “and if you’re interested, intimate companionship later tonight. If you’re not interested in that kind of relationship – as I said earlier, I hate eating alone.” Connor met his eyes, and the intense look he gave Clint made him shiver with anticipation. “I’m not an agent or a spy, out to trap you. I’m a guy who has plenty of money and time on his hands, a handful of close friends, and no lover in my bed. Care to change that last one?”

Desire skittered a beat across his pulse as Clint swallowed hard. “I might need a little more convincing,” he managed. He breathed carefully and took a sip of his drink. “But I like what I’m hearing so far.”

Connor looked pleased at that response and turned the conversation to movies they had seen. By the time they finished dinner, Clint was convinced, and let Connor lead him home.

They entered through a side door in the building that housed Connor’s antique store and headed up to the second floor. Clint heard the beep of a security system as they entered; Connor quickly reset it and locked the door behind them.

Still wearing his jacket, Connor turned to him just outside the door to the master bedroom. “Last chance to back out,” he told Clint. “I won’t hold it against you.”

“Long as you don’t mind using condoms and me being unwilling to hand you my jacket,” Clint replied.

That got him a grin as Connor gestured to his jacket. “Hang it up on the wall by the left side of the bed; there are hooks there.” Connor stepped into the bedroom.

Clint took a moment to take in the room. A massive four-poster bed dominated the room. A matching dresser, armoire, two nightstands, and a low padded bench completed the furniture. A door led to what Clint assumed was the ensuite bathroom. Wall sconces on either side of the bed supplied light; the overhead light was integrated into the ceiling fan. A large picture window, covered by a heavyweight curtain, supplied natural light. Connor set his jacket on one of the hooks and used the bench to remove his shoes; Clint followed suit.

Connor pulled condoms and lube out of a nightstand drawer and set them on the nightstand. He handed one of the condom packets to Clint and then pointed to the trash can beside the bed. Clint nodded his understanding.

Connor then turned to him and kissed him. Desire flashed anew. Clint kissed Connor back, wanting to give as much as he got.

It wasn’t long before they were both naked and had donned condoms. Connor seemed to understand instinctively that Clint did not like having his back to a wall or to the bed. Clint found himself grasping a footpost and whimpering as Connor took his time in getting to know his body as he headed unerringly in the direction of Clint’s cock. Once there, Connor proved he was no stranger to giving head. Clint had had experienced lovers before, but he swore no one had ever gotten him that achingly hard that fast.

Maddeningly, Connor stopped before Clint could fall off pleasure’s cliff. Whimpering, Clint stared at his new lover. “Why did you stop?”

“Because I want to know if you want me to fuck you or if you wanted to fuck me,” Connor told him.

“Fuck me, please,” Clint pleaded. “Connor, don’t leave me hanging.”

Desire glittered in Connor’s eyes. “Then get on the bed so we can be comfortable.”

Nodding, Clint pulled the bedcovers back and got on his hands and knees. He heard the snick of the lubricant cap and breathed out as Connor prepared his asshole for penetration, using two fingers, then two more. Clint shuddered at the implication and moaned. He had always preferred men who had large cocks; getting that kink fulfilled without having to ask for it added a level of spice to Clint’s pleasure.

“Yes, please, want you in me,” he said breathlessly. “Want that big cock of yours in me.”

“Ride my fingers a little more first,” Connor ordered huskily. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take the burn,” Clint assured him, even as he met the thrust of Connor’s fingers.

“Want you to be able to walk after this,” Connor returned, adding more lube.

Clint moaned again, but Connor held to his patience. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Connor used his cock, and the difference between fingers and cock made Clint moan in pleasure. Connor’s cock was wide and long, and hit every button on Clint’s kink meter. He wished he’d taken the time to suck on it first, but getting it now in his ass was good enough.

Connor set an easy pace at first, then faster as Clint met his thrusts and passion’s fire burned its mark through both of them. Connor pulled Clint upright, setting him more firmly on his cock, and Clint gasped as he realized how strong his lover was. Holding him tightly, Connor told him, “Ride me and stroke your cock. I want to feel you come before I do.”

The command sent pleasure skittering through Clint. It took him a moment to find the right rhythm, and Connor had to help him. The joint assault caused Clint’s orgasm to crash through him and he almost fell forward, but Connor’s grip held. With a grunt, Connor climaxed.

Breathing heavily, he held Clint tight before telling him, “Okay, now you can fall.”

Clint separated their bodies carefully. He looked over his shoulder to see Connor taking off the condom and waited for Connor to deposit the used condom in the trash before doing the same with the one he was wearing. Once that task was complete, he sat up and kissed Connor.

Connor kissed him back sweetly before breaking the kiss. “Want some water?”

“Please,” Clint nodded.

Connor went into the bathroom and returned with a glass of water. He handed it to Clint, who drank half of it gratefully; Connor finished the rest and set the glass on the nightstand.

“I should warn you,” Connor said conversationally, “I have a short refractory period and can go a long time.”

Clint’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that to warn me off or to threaten me with a fun time?”

Connor grinned, but Clint saw the relief in his eyes. “Do you have anywhere to be in the morning?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Clint replied. “If the world is ending, they’ll either call me or find me, depending on how bad it is.”

“Good to know.” Connor kissed him again. “Because I don’t want to let you out of this bed now that you’re in it except for bathroom breaks and maybe some food later.”

“You think you could keep me here?” Clint asked archly.

“Well.” Connor licked a finger and then stroked and lightly pinched Clint’s left nipple, making Clint gasp at the calculated touch. “Yes.”

Unable to deny that, Clint met Connor’s gaze. “Then you’d better make it worth my while.”

Connor took that dare and, for the rest of the evening, proved to Clint that it had been too long since he had a male lover who took his pleasure out of giving pleasure. A shared shower turned into more sex play, with Clint getting a chance to suck on Connor’s cock. By dawn, Clint couldn’t remember the last time he had gone all night having sex. He fell asleep in Connor’s arms, exhausted and blissed out.

Connor woke him by tugging on his right toe. The move surprised Clint, who had half-expected a kiss or something of the sort. Looking apologetic, Connor then kissed him.

“Figured you’d smack me if I tried to wake you up like Sleeping Beauty.”

Clint acknowledged that with a rueful nod. Unfamiliar places and new lovers sometimes meant he reacted wrong to wake-ups. “Thanks. Something wrong?”

“Much as I’d love for you to stay and laze the day away, your phone buzzed.”

Clint grimaced at that news and took the phone Connor handed him. Seeing the message, he replied, _Not going to work out today, Steve. Have fun without me._ He then set the phone on the nightstand.

“Nothing to worry about?” Connor asked, concerned.

“Forgot I promised Steve if I wasn’t busy, I’d work out with him.” Clint shrugged. “Much rather be busy with you.”

Connor smiled. “Then let’s have breakfast. You’re going to need energy.”

Rather than argue, Clint kissed him passionately. Breakfast could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, keyboard smashes, “I liked this!” welcome. Flames and hate will be deleted.


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